


compromise

by jeremell (orphan_account)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Squip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 13:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jeremell
Summary: If Jeremy goes over to Michael’s house today to spend the night, then he isn’t allowed out of the house for the next three days, is what Jeremy’s dad attempts to make firm.-Jeremy spends the night at Michael's house.





	compromise

**Author's Note:**

> it's me, back at it again with the late uploading
> 
> hope you guys enjoy it though!! <3

_If Jeremy goes over to Michael’s house today to spend the night, then he isn’t allowed out of the house for the next three days_ , is what Jeremy’s dad attempts to make firm. Of course, his dad’s plans never quite pan out because he refuses to put his pants on, which results in him being unable to chase Jeremy out the door as he hightails it to Michael’s car. He can appreciate the effort his father puts into trying to be a good parent though- it’s more than anything his mother could ever do for that matter.

“Beep beep, jackass.” Michael greets as soon as Jeremy clambers inside of his PT Cruiser. He nearly knocks Michael’s half-full red slushie over as he struggles to put his seatbelt on and whack his best friend’s arm in a convoluted attempt to relay to him to get the _fuck_ out of his driveway before his dad could come bust his ass. Thankfully, Michael seems to get the message and backs out in a fashion akin to a criminal on his first heist, then speeds away.

Jeremy resolutely didn’t notice the way his dad’s face appeared in his living room window, forlorn and angry because his only son fled to the safety of his best friend’s house once again. He doesn’t mention it to Michael either, doesn’t even think to once he catches sight of the way the sunlight streaming through Michael’s windshield highlights some portions of his normally mud-brown hair, adding a golden shimmer to it that almost seems ethereal. He’s no poet though.

“So Jere-bear, what’s the plan for today?”

“Dunno,” he replies earnestly. “Your place and video games?”

“You know it, baby!” Michael fist-pumps the air like the lame dork he is. Something dumb kickstarts in Jeremy’s chest, so he does what he does best and avoids the problem by resting his elbow on the space by the passenger window. It’s a rather foolproof method, plus it allows him to revel in Michael’s off-key singing without letting him see the pinkish hues Jeremy’s certain are present on his cheeks.

A few hours and a stomach full of foods guaranteed to make any PTA mom faint later, Jeremy decides it’s time to call his dad. He makes Michael pause level nine of Apocalypse of the Damned and puts it on speakerphone, prepared for the worst. Michael leans an inquisitive ear forward, ready to hear his friend get absolutely demolished.

It rings. And rings. And rings some more. _Ring, ring, ring._

“Hey! I can’t come to the phone right now, but-” _Click._

“Try again?” Michael suggests. Jeremy wonders what his dad could possibly be doing that’s more important than answering a phone call from his own son, but nonetheless, he takes his advice. It rings for another minute, Jeremy’s expression drooping by the second.

Michael slings an arm over Jeremy’s shoulders as soon as he finishes leaving a message for his dad, intent on bringing a smile to his friend’s face. “Man, don’t worry! You can spend the night, I’ll even let you sleep in the bed.”

“Dude, no, it’s cool, I’ll just-” He trips over his own words in a spectacularly embarrassing manner, frustrated red flush flourishing in his cheeks the longer he goes on. Why can’t he just be _normal_?

“No, for real, it’s all good. Anything for my wittle Jere-bear!” Michael pinches Jeremy’s cheeks, breathtaking grin threatening to make him blush harder if that’s even possible. “On one condition. You make me pancakes in the morning. The good ones with the whipped cream and shit.”

“... Okay, deal,” agrees Jeremy, and the two drift off in contented silence for the night.


End file.
